


Adventures in Rat-Keeping

by Mertens



Series: Rat AU [3]
Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Humor, Light Angst, Mouse AU, Rat AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-06-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:09:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22927744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens
Summary: Raoul de Chagny finds out where his pet mouse, Christine, is going when she runs off in the opera house, and he devises a plan.
Relationships: Christine Daaé & Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Raoul de Chagny & Christine Daaé
Series: Rat AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1626601
Comments: 21
Kudos: 43





	1. The Discovery Of Erik

Raoul looked at Christine as she sat on the cushion of the carriage, innocently running her tiny fingers through her whiskers. He narrowed his eyes at her. She was planning something, he knew. But what? 

She always stayed at the opera house every other performance, and he was burning with curiosity about what she did while was there. Where did she go? Who did she see? He had no idea - but he was about to find out. 

She paused in her work, taking a moment to look up at him when she felt his gaze on her. Why was he making the Philippe face at her? It puzzled her, but she returned to her task of cleaning her whiskers and thought no more about it. 

Just like every trip to the opera with her, she wanted to go down a certain hallway. He obliged, setting her down, pretending to leave around the corner. 

Christine had a spring in her step as she ran down the hall, thinking about who she was about to meet. 

Raoul peeked around the corner, watching her go. Tonight he would learn his little Christine’s secret! 

He crept behind her at a great distance - her hearing was good, so he knew he had to stay back as much he could to avoid detection. Luckily for him, she seemed very distracted and didn’t even notice that he was there. 

She ran down the hallway, taking a turn here and there until she arrived at the room they had been having their lessons in recently, after having to abandon her dressing room when the rat catcher had become suspicious of the little claw marks on the bottom of the door. 

She entered the room with a happy squeak. She couldn’t see him, but she knew her dear angel was here somewhere. 

“Erik!” she squeaked. “Erik!”

Erik appeared as if by magic, with a flourish of his little cape and a low bow - he was unmasked, just as she had requested, and it made her terribly happy that he trusted her. 

“My dear Christine,” he greeted her tenderly. 

She beamed at him, a grin forming over his own awful face. 

“A lesson tonight, a show tomorrow night, and a walk by the river the next day?” he asked. 

“Of course!”

He drew her close and pressed kisses to her forehead and cheeks. Time spent with her was the best time of his life. 

She sighed happily. How her maestro loved her!

Raoul peeked through the keyhole of the door, and after a moment, spotted Christine down on the floor. But what was that thing there with her? He squinted hard. 

It wasn’t until the odd shape reached its paws out to place on either side of Christine’s face that he realized what it was - a rat. 

For a brief moment fear rushed through him - rats and mice frequently fought, and this rat could easily harm Christine very badly. He nearly burst in through the door to chase the monster away, but suddenly it started licking her face. 

He watched, baffled at first, but then he placed his hand over his heart, a smile spreading across his face. 

Did Christine have a beau?

She looked so happy as she stood on her hind legs, she even leaned up and licked the cheek of the rat! 

Raoul’s smile faltered as he noticed for the first time just how ugly the rat was. It didn’t have any fur! At least, none he could see. Someone with an awful sense of humor had dressed the little beast in clothing. How odd. He fervently hoped that the creature didn’t pass any disgusting disease on to Christine - picturing her without her lovely fur nearly brought a despairing tear to his eye. 

Erik felt he could die of happiness whenever Christine kissed him. It was like floating on a cloud, a heavenly cloud. And kissing her was just as lovely - her soft fur felt like silk against his mouth. 

“Dinner is ready for us,” he cleared his throat and tried to clear his mind. “I trust you are ready to eat?”

“I’ve been looking forward to it!”

Raoul watched in slack-jawed awe as Christine and the ugly rat chirped at each other before they both ran through a little hole in the opposite wall. 

Was this why Christine always wanted to come here? Did she want to spend time with this rat? 

Raoul watched the empty room for a long moment afterwards, but neither one came back. He eventually straightened up and wandered back to the auditorium in a daze. 

Who was this little interloper, stealing his Christine away? How had Christine even met him? Clearly she cared about him very much, judging by her insistence of staying with him so often, if she truly was staying with the rat each she time she came here. 

“Raoul, where were you?” Philippe whispered, an eyebrow raised as his brother sank into the seat next to him. 

Raoul merely shook his head - he was still too lost in thought. 

Didn’t Christine know how much he missed her while she was away? But - what if she missed the rat just as much when she was with Raoul? His poor little Christine! If only there was a way for them all to be together all the time... Then no one would have to miss anyone! 

He glanced sidelong at Philippe, who only had eyes for Sorelli up on stage. Philippe never minded _too_ much when he brought a new pet home... And the mansion was very big, after all - they had plenty of room for a new friend. 

He wasn’t wild about having such an ugly animal in his care, but the poor beast couldn’t help how ugly it was, and he did seem to make Christine happy... Raoul would do anything for Christine. If having that rat around would make her happy, and if it meant that she wouldn’t run off in the opera house anymore, well- 

Raoul might have been sitting in the audience of the opera house and staring at the story playing out on stage, but his mind was very far away, consumed with how to build a trap for a rat.


	2. The Capture Of Erik, part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Mazen and Ms_Myth for help with some plot points!

Raoul spent the next few days plotting and planning. He didn’t know how, exactly, but he knew for certain he was going to trap that rat and bring him home for Christine. 

Raoul had spent a great deal of time catching animals - well, perhaps ‘catching’ was being generous. Birds with concussions and rabbits with sore feet were not the most adept at putting up a chase. This rat seemed fast, but Raoul would find a way. 

His first plan was the simplest - he would simply grab the rat off the ground. Was that not how he acquired most of the animals he took in? 

He started off on this plan by nonchalantly asking Philippe if they could go to the opera a little early that evening. Philippe had smiled and immediately agreed. Once there, he asked what Raoul wanted to do until it was showtime. Raoul just stuck his hands in his pockets and ducked his head. 

“I want to spend a little time alone...”

Philippe laughed and waved him off. 

“I see! Well, go enjoy yourself, then,” he watched with fondness and pride as his little brother set off by himself. Perhaps a certain someone had caught his eye! 

Raoul headed for the same room he had seen Christine go into days ago. He had a feeling that she might still be there. 

He feeling turned out to be correct. 

“I’ll see you, soon, Erik!” Christine bid her angel farewell as she headed for the big door. 

“Goodbye, Christine,” his voice was a little sad. 

She trotted up to the door, knowing Raoul would be waiting for her where he always was. 

She was shocked into stillness to find him waiting for her just outside the door. She hesitated as he stared down at her with a glint in his eye. Did he know? Know about Erik? She sat down and began to groom her fur as though she hadn’t been doing anything suspicious at all in the room just behind her, as though she hadn’t even noticed Raoul there. 

He reached down and scooped her up, placing her into his breast pocket in front of his handkerchief. To her dismay, he pushed the door open and walked inside. 

He looked this way and that for the rat, but saw no sign of him. Raoul scratched his head. Where could he be? 

Completely unaware of what was happening in the room he had just exited, Erik was swaying a little as he walked through the secret tunnels back his home, a dreamy smile on his terrible face, still intoxicated on the presence of Christine. 

Christine’s little heart was fluttering fast. Raoul knew! He was looking for Erik! She squeaked and squirmed, trying to distract him, and eventually it worked. She breathed a sigh of relief as they went and sat in the audience. She would have felt terrible if Erik had been discovered, and all on account of her. 

Things went normally from there, but Christine hadn’t forgotten. 

His second plan was to catch him in a net - he had stuffed the mesh net into his pocket, a telescoping rod stowed in the other pocket, ready to be assembled as soon as he saw his prize. The next time when Raoul dropped her off in the hall, he waited just around the corner, peering around to watch where she went, ready to follow her again - he would get that rat this time! His grin disappeared when, instead of running down the hall like she had before, she nearly immediately found a tiny little hole in the wall and disappeared into it. 

She loved Raoul and trusted him, but she knew Erik didn’t like being looked at. 

Raoul stared at the hole for what felt like forever. Was she coming out? Did she have a secret tunnel? He huffed. How could she do this to him?!

Christine sat inside the little crevice in the wall, patiently waiting for Raoul to leave. Her sensitive ears could hear him pacing and huffing. But that was okay - he would leave eventually, she knew. 

His footsteps grew closer and she could see his shadow looming ever nearer. She scooted to the side so he couldn’t see her, and just in time, too - Raoul kneeled down and tried to stick the side of his face to the floor so he could see inside the hole. 

At that moment Andre, one of the managers of the opera house, turned down that hallway to go to his office. He had a moment of confusion as he saw a guest with his rear in the air and face to the ground, but realized that this was the Vicomte de Chagny. He immediately turned around and left. He didn’t know what the Vicomte was doing, nor did he want to know. The young man was an odd character, but his older brother was quite popular - not to mention quite generous - with very many who worked at the Opera, and he felt that excused whatever eccentricities the younger brother might have. If the Vicomte wanted to put his face on every inch of the Opera House’s floor, well, Andre was going to let him. 

But Raoul could see nothing inside of the crevice. He squinted his eyes, frowning, and held his breath in the hopes of being able to hear any possible noise from inside. 

Christine heard him stop breathing and held her breath as well. 

All was silent. 

He sighed heavily and stood, and Christine breathed again. He left, and she waited a good long while until she could hear the singers on stage - surely he was in his seat by now, watching the show. 

She crawled out of the hole and scurried off to Erik. She would be late, and Erik would be a little sad, but it would be worth it - she couldn’t lead Raoul to Erik, after all! 

This carried on for some time, to the great frustration of Raoul. He had laid the cleverest of traps, planned the most cunning tricks - all to no avail. The little box propped up by a stick had no attraction for Erik, not even with the large chuck of cheese used as bait, though Erik and Christine did stop using that room afterwards. The carefully laid snare that would grab him (gently!) by the leg was wisely avoided by Erik as well. 

When Raoul finally succeeded, it was through sheer dumb luck. 

Raoul had been moping in the corners of the theater, agreeing to tag along with Philippe even though there was no show that evening, but not wanting to talk to anyone at the little party currently going on upstairs that Sorelli had invited them to, he had wandered off on his own. 

He was in that corner, sulking, when suddenly a single limelight on the stage burst to life. He looked up, startled. 

In the glow of that light stood a tiny figure, completely unaware of anything except for her maestro. 

Erik had wanted to rehearse up on stage that night, and Christine had readily agreed. It was a special occasion, too - she was to sing a song from his new opera. What an honor! 

She stood up on her hind legs and began to sing. 

Raoul stared at the little moving something up on stage. Was that-? He crept closer. It was! It was Christine! And someone was with her!

She dramatically clutched her paws together in front of her as her voice sang out- 

_Past the point of no return, no backward glances!_

Erik watched her with glittering eyes. How lovely she was! He didn’t even hear the shuffling noises backstage. He scooted closer to Christine. 

_The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn!_

His voice rang out with hers, and her eyes lit up. Had there ever been a more perfect duet? 

Their voices trailed off, leaving near silence in the huge room. Erik wanted to seize her and kiss her, but he just barely refrained. 

“Oh, Erik,” Christine sighed. “What a beautiful song.”

“What a beautiful singer, my dear!” he corrected her with a chuckle. “It was written with only you in mind.”

Her little face blushed underneath of her fur. 

Raoul, meanwhile, was standing behind the curtain on the stage. It was a heavy curtain, and he had noticed a small opening at one side, just the size of a rat. He realized, of course, that they could simply run the length of the curtain and go all the way around it, or they could try to claw their way through under any part of the curtain - but they might also take the easiest route and go through the hole. He squatted down, ready to grab at the rat when - if - it should come through. 

A little glint of metal caught his attention. There, at the far wall, was a cage of sorts. A rat trap, he realized. He sprang up and went to get it as quietly as he could, and carefully inspected it to be certain that it wasn’t lethal - he would feel so ashamed if he accidentally harmed Christine’s little friend! But it truly did look to be merely a cage that a rat would run in and get caught. 

He bit his lip in concentration as he angled the trap to be just in front of the hole in the curtain. If he was lucky- if he was _very_ lucky-

The room seemed to crackle with a kind of electricity for both Erik and Christine. She took a daring step towards him. He cleared his throat, which seemed terribly dry. 

“Should- should we return home, dear one?” he asked a little breathlessly. 

She nodded, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden. All at once they were much too close yet too far away. 

“We, ah, we can rehearse more when we get there, if you wish-“

“More of this opera?” she asked swiftly, eagerly. 

His nervous paws fiddled with his little bow tie. 

“Of course! Certainly!”

“Oh good!”

He felt any more words would only betray him, so he turned and began to run back home, Christine quickly following. He wanted to get there as soon as possible, heading for the shortcut to backstage. 

He ran through the hole in the curtain and right into the trap.


	3. The Capture Of Erik, part 2

Erik immediately realized something was wrong, but it was too late. He was caught. 

He thrashed and hissed and tried to bite the bars on the cage, causing Raoul to jump back and fall to his bottom. 

“Erik!” Christine cried. 

She heard the clink of metal against metal and dashed forwards, tunneling under the curtain to see what was wrong, giving no thought to her own safety. She stared in dismay at how he was caught in the rat catcher’s trap. 

Raoul inched closer, fascinated by the strange creature dressed up in clothing. 

Christine took notice of him for the first time. 

“Raoul!” she ran up to him, pressing her head against his hand. “Please! Help him! If the rat catcher comes back-!”

Great big tears rolled down her face at the thought of the rat catcher harming Erik. 

“Christine!” Raoul said cheerfully as he picked her up. “Isn’t it wonderful? He’s going to come live with us!”

Christine could barely believe her ears - was Raoul telling the truth? Was he going to let Erik live with them? But Erik lived here! 

Raoul placed Christine in his pocket and picked up the cage containing a still frantic Erik, and, with a huge grin on his face, made his way to the lobby, and from there, he got into the de Chagny carriage waiting outside. Philippe, he knew, wouldn’t be too much longer. 

Once inside the carriage, Raoul set the cage on the cushion of the seat, then sat on the floor so that his face could be level with the cage. 

Erik had stopped turning in circles, but was now pressed flat to the bottom of the cage, his tail in the air, and was making a continuous noise that was a cross between a growl and hiss. Raoul thought it rather sounded like the noise a cat made right before vomiting. Was his new pet okay? 

Erik was terribly angry. Who was this devil? What made him think he could stare at Erik when Erik didn’t have a mask on? What gave him the right to remove Erik from his home? Humbug! Humbug!

Christine climbed out of Raoul’s pocket and up onto the cushion. She went right up to the cage and reached her paw through, stretching it towards Erik. 

“Don’t be frightened, Erik!” 

Erik ceased his hideous noise. 

“Christine! This horrible fiend has stolen you too!”

Christine looked surprised. 

“He’s not a fiend! He’s Raoul! He’ll help you, Erik - he can help you out of the trap!”

“Oh, Christine!” Erik wailed. “This man has put you under a spell!”

She wrinkled her nose. She wasn’t under a spell! 

“Raoul doesn’t have me under a spell,” she huffed. “And besides, he’s not horrible - he’s saved you from the rat catcher, didn’t he?”

Erik paused. His poor Christine - didn’t she see that vicious man - this _Raoul_ \- was the one who had trapped him in the first place? 

“You’re not so bad,” Raoul said after studying how his two pets were interacting. 

He stuck a single finger into the cage, and had only the briefest of fractions of a second to pull it back before Erik tried to bite him. 

“Erik!” Christine scolded. “Don’t treat him like that!”

Erik turned to see the scowl on her face, her ears laid back against her head. 

“He tried to poke Erik!”

“He’ll be good to you if you’re good to him,” Christine assured him. “Just be patient with him. Be a gentleman!”

Erik glared at Raoul, who was staring at him with great interest. 

“I’ve never seen a fellow like you before,” Raoul said, a hint of awe in his voice. 

Erik sniffed. That was right! There were no other rats like Erik! 

“Feast your eyes and glut your soul, boy!” Erik stood on his hind legs and bowed just slightly, his voice holding both a bit of malice and a bit of pride - he was an ugly rat, there was no denying it, but he was a _talented_ rat, too. 

Raoul squinted his eyes. 

“Where’d you get your clothes?”

Erik had no time to answer, as just then the carriage door opened and Philippe entered. Raoul scrambled up to sit on the seat and not the floor. 

“Did you enjoy the party?” his voice was a little too high, too nervous - he was afraid Philippe would inquire as to where he had gotten the cage. 

“I met the most interesting man! He’s from Persia, wouldn’t you know it - I’ve invited him for dinner one night, you simply have to hear his stories, Raoul - he’s practically an expert on opera, and he-“ 

Philippe stared at the cage Raoul was so obviously trying to hide. 

“What’s that,” his voice was flat as his mind catalogued the possibilities of what creature would be coming home with them now. 

“It’s a new friend! It’s Christine’s friend!” he said, a strange mix of cheerful and nervous. 

Erik’s ear has perked up at the mention of Persia, but it was wiped from his mind upon hearing himself called a _friend_. Did this boy truly think they were friends? Or did call every potential dinner a “friend” too?

The one called Philippe leaned over to frown at the cage, and Erik made an ugly face right back at him. If this Philippe person was offended at seeing such a terrible face, well, it was no more than he deserved for trying to look at Erik. 

Philippe looked nervously between the hideous beast and the grinning Raoul. He didn’t want to upset the boy, but the animal didn’t look long for this world. There was clearly something terribly wrong with it, and they would be quite lucky if it didn’t expire on the trip back to the mansion. 

“What’s, ah- what’s his name, then?” he asked, hoping to humor him. 

Had he known the rat still had more than a decade’s worth of life in him, he would have insisted that it be turned out of the carriage immediately. 

“Charles Garnier,” Raoul said decidedly with a nod. 

Philippe searched his mind for where he’d heard that name before. 

“The architect who designed the opera house?”

“Yes!”

Philippe sighed as he watched the animal. 

“Why did you dress him up like that?”

“I didn’t. I found him that way.”

Philippe gave him a long stare. Raoul was not one to lie, usually, but he simply couldn’t believe a rat was running around the opera house dressed in a tuxedo of its own free will. 

“I don’t think he likes wearing that.”

“Oh?” Raoul looked surprised. 

“No. He’s probably uncomfortable.”

Raoul looked worried. He didn’t want Charles to be uncomfortable! 

He undid the little latch at the top of the cage and removed the tiny panel, allowing his hand to reach in to the cage. 

Philippe cringed away. 

“Don’t let him loose!” 

The very last thing he needed was for the beast to get loose in the carriage. 

“I won’t!”

Raoul grabbed at Erik’s clothing, making short work of the little buttons and fasteners and pulling his clothes away. 

Erik squealed with indignation. Christine squeaked in defense of him - let him have his clothes! But Raoul payed them both no heed. 

“Do you think he feels better now?”

Philippe nodded. 

“I’m sure of it.”

Raoul smiled as he folded the little clothes and put them in his pocket - he wanted to do right by his strange new pet. 

“Did you win the card game, then?” he asked his brother, and Philippe’s expression soured for a moment. 

“Sorelli did,” he muttered. “I lost twenty seven francs tonight.”

“Better luck next time,” Raoul offered. 

Erik huddled in his cage, all this chatter passing over his miserable head. He cared little for how much money the man had lost on a hand of cards, or what the next show at the opera was going to be, or whatever other nonsense they were babbling on about. Couldn’t they see he was suffering? Or did they simply not care? He gnashed his teeth at them. Let him have his clothing back! This was the worst indignity he’d been forced to endure in recent memory. 

He felt cold and vulnerable, but what was worse was that he was embarrassingly naked in front of Christine, and though she was being polite about it, he knew she could see _everything_. 

Her eyes darted over him as she sat next to the cage, and then away again - she didn’t want to stare because she knew it would be rude, but she had never seen any animal that didn’t have fur before. She looked as much as propriety would allow, and then a little more. She was terribly curious, and he was terribly bare.

He was currently sitting hunched over with his face directed at the floor of his cage, too ashamed to look up. His back was smooth and could almost be described as plump, but around his arms and neck he looked wrinkly. In the moonlight, Christine could see a number of faded scars and scratches across his skin, and her heart ached for her poor maestro. What kind of life had he known? 

She wondered what she might look like without fur, and if her skin would look similar in the way it bunched and stretched. It made her shiver to think about, and she was grateful that she’d never have to find out. Still, she felt a great sympathy for poor Erik, who didn’t have fur to protect him from the cold and, apparently, from the claws of other rats (though she was certain she also saw some teeth marks as well). 

They both pulled out of their deep thoughts, however, when the carriage arrived back at the mansion. 

“Don’t worry, Erik,” she tried to keep her eyes focused on his own red gaze, but it kept wandering over him. “We’re home now, everything is going to be okay.”

But as Raoul picked up the cage and took him inside, Erik had the sinking feeling that nothing would ever be okay again.


	4. First Night at the Mansion

Erik felt his apprehension growing as they walked up to the door of the huge house. He huddled down in his cage, glancing up at Christine who rode on Raoul’s shoulder. She was looking ahead confidently, her tail swaying in the wind, this place already so familiar to her even while it was so strange to Erik. 

Once inside, several servants greeted the brothers, and Erik squeezed his eyes tightly shut. More people to gawk at Erik’s hideous nakedness! He desperately wished he had fur for the sole purpose of being able to pull it all out in his stress. 

But the servants didn’t gawk - they didn’t even seem to notice Erik at all. Raoul carrying a cage with another mysterious small animal was not a new sight to them, and they’d learned long ago that they’d rather not know what kinds of creatures were temporary lodgers in this house. 

Even though they took no notice of her, either, Christine politely nodded to the servants in greeting. It was okay that they didn’t greet her in return - they were just shy, that’s all. 

The house was lavishly decorated, but Erik could hardly find it in himself to enjoy his surroundings. He was transported to another room, this one a sitting room of sorts. There were chairs and a table in front of a roaring fire on the hearth. 

His heart sank even as his anger rose. So that was it, then! He was going to be thrown into the fireplace! He’d never known such cruelty! 

But the cage was placed on the table, not thrown to the fire. Christine ran down Raoul’s arm and onto the table as well. Raoul opened up the cage and sat back, waiting for Erik to come out. 

“You can come out now, friend,” Raoul told him. 

Oh, so that was this boy’s wicked plan! Lure Erik out and accost him! Well, he would show him! He’d never come out, never! 

“Erik,” Christine pouted. “Come out.”

Erik came out. 

Despite his fears, nothing bad happened. He sniffed at his surroundings, taking stock of the room. 

“This is your home now!” Christine chirped as she ran in a little circle. “Welcome home!”

It didn’t feel like home to Erik. It was new and strange, and he liked his home at the opera house. But Christine was here, and perhaps with time, that would enough. 

He crept closer to the edge of the table, nearer to the fire. He felt cold without his clothing. 

Suddenly there was a noise behind him, and he jumped, preparing to fight - but it was only the cage being taken off the table. 

Raoul left the room a moment, taking the cage to a closet. Erik relaxed just slightly. Christine scooted closer to him, reaching out to pat his paw with her own, not looking at him as she did so. 

“I know you’re nervous, but it’ll be okay,” she told him. 

He nodded, blinking back tears. Christine was so kind to him, even he was brazenly naked and hideously ugly, and it made him want to weep. 

Raoul entered the room, smiling at his two pets. He sat back down in his chair, waiting for the rat adjust to his presence. 

Erik slowly got used to his surroundings. From his perch on the table he studied the room around him in the hopes of learning about his new captor. There were books on the shelves, and flowers over the mantel surrounded by framed photographs. Art hung on the walls, and the curtains were made of a rich looking velvet. 

Most concerningly, there seemed to be no way down from the table except for a huge jump. This didn’t seem to bother Christine, who had sat down to watch the fire as she cleaned her whiskers. 

He noticed, not for the first time, that the boy was staring at him in an almost unblinking manner. Erik glared at him from the corner of his eye. He was being judged, he just knew it! Luckily there was a vase full of flowers on the table, and Erik crept behind this, putting it between him and Raoul’s horrible gaze. 

He stood up on his hind legs to inspect the flowers - perhaps he could use the leaves and petals to construct new clothing - but as he sniffed at a large tulip and pushed it aside with his nose, all it did was get pollen on his head. 

He pulled back, offended, and sat on his haunches while he licked his hands and tried to wipe the pollen off of him. To his concern, Raoul had moved and was now watching him again. He felt panic bubbling up with no where to go, and it had it not been for the presence of Christine, he would have thrown a fit. 

At this same moment, Philippe walked in. 

“How is little Charles Garnier doing?” he asked Raoul. 

“He seems agitated,” Raoul replied. “But I’m sure he’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

Philippe came up close to the table to get a better look at him. 

“I suppose one gets used to the look of him, eventually,” Philippe mused, and lowered his face to be level with Erik. 

Erik paused in washing his hands, his entire attention consumed by Philippe’s giant face getting closer and closer to him. His red gaze went blank, and before anyone could realize what was about to happen, Erik lost all sense of where he was and acted on instinct alone, suddenly overcome by a bout of wickedness. 

He shot forward and bit Philippe on the nose. 

Philippe screamed. Raoul screamed. Christine’s fur stood on end and she squealed. 

Erik jumped back and hid behind the floral arrangement, cowering and trembling. Why was everyone yelling? Erik hadn’t done anything wrong! 

If that nasty man happened to now have to hold a handkerchief to his bleeding nose, and if that just so happened to occur after he had been far too close to Erik, well, was that Erik’s fault? Had Erik caused that to happen? No, certainly not. The two things were not related in the least. 

The two humans ran out of the room. 

“Erik!” Christine wailed. “How could you?”

“How could I what?” he asked, confused. 

“You can’t bite people! It’s bad!”

Bite people? His brow furrowed, trying to understand. 

“Raoul and Philippe are very big, and very strong, but they are always gentle to us, and kind! They could hurt us but they don’t! We must be kind in return, too. That means you can’t bite them!” she continued. 

He tilted his head. What the devil was she talking about? Why, if anything, that only meant he had to hurt them first, before they could hurt him! Christine has such strange ideas, sometimes. 

Raoul came back in, looking upset. He reached for Christine, who jumped up onto his sleeve, and then, before Erik could realize what happened, he scooped up Erik in his hand, wrapping his fingers around him just under his arms. 

Erik squeaked and wiggled in vain. 

Raoul held him up to eye level - but at a good distance from his face lest he end up like Philippe. He frowned at him. 

“You’re a very bad fellow, Charles Garnier. You must improve yourself,” he said firmly. 

Erik blinked his red eyes at Raoul. Who was Charles Garnier? Maybe that was who bit Philippe. 

Raoul sighed and placed Erik on his shoulder. Erik tensed, wanting to jump but not able to calculate how safe that would be - especially once Raoul started walking. He dug his claws into the fabric of Raoul’s coat and hunched down, his tail sticking out for balance. 

They passed by the doorway of a room that contained Philippe, a large bandage on his nose and a scowl on his face. Erik stared at him for as long he could, making eye contact as they passed by. The bandage already had a little red seeping through at the edges. Erik shuddered a little. He certainly wouldn’t want to run into this Charles Garnier character, personally. He sounded like a fiend. 

Raoul walked them upstairs and into another room. Erik quickly surmised that this was Raoul’s bedroom. 

It was a grand and stately affair, and one large corner of the room was devoted to an enormous dollhouse, where he placed Erik and Christine. 

Erik watched him suspiciously as he disappeared into the bathroom and closed the door. He stood there at the edge of the dollhouse balcony, squinting his eyes at the closed door. 

Christine, meanwhile, was already beginning to forget about the nose incident - she had too much else to think about now. 

“This is my home, Erik,” she said shyly. “My other home, when I’m not with you...”

Erik pulled his attention away from the door Raoul had disappeared through. He realized with dismay that Christine’s house was far more spacious than his house - while his had been a mere prop for a former show, this house had once belonged to Raoul’s sister, and as such it had had the benefit of endless amounts of furniture and decorations for its numerous rooms. 

“Oh!” he said, looking at everything. “It’s- it’s very nice, my dear.” 

He swallowed back his disappointment at not having the most luxurious house, because this meant that Christine had surely not been very impressed with his living space. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that perhaps this meant that Christine liked him even more than he originally thought, because she certainly hadn’t been staying at his house for the _house_. 

“Would you like me to show you around?” she fiddled nervously with the end of her tail. 

“Of course!”

She smiled widely as she took him around to each room and explained what it was. 

“This is where I sit to look out the window, see? And this room is where I keep all my wood blocks - you can have one, if you want - this is the dining room, but I don’t eat here. This is the room I go to when I don’t want Raoul looking at me - he can’t see around this corner right here - and this is my bedroom!”

She concluded her tour of nearly two dozen rooms with the introduction her own room, then she ducked her head. 

“But now that you’re here,” she said. “We might have to change some of them... You can have any of them to sleep in. It’s up to you.”

She normally slept on top the doll bed in her bedroom, wrapped underneath of a tiny blanket Raoul had given her. She had no objections if Erik also wished to sleep there, but her room was decorated with pink floral wallpaper and she didn’t know if he wanted to call such a feminine room his. 

At first he considered the room that Raoul couldn’t see, but he eventually settled on the attic room. From here he could see Raoul’s huge bed, which meant Raoul could see him too, but he also felt that having a broad view of his own surroundings meant he could be prepared for anything that might happen - imagine waking up in the secret room and coming out to start the day only to find the boy or his brother standing right next to house, staring into the rooms without any warning! 

So the attic became his, and he tried to settle down as much as he could. 

Raoul came out, dressed in his pajamas, and though he glanced in the direction of the dollhouse, he didn’t hesitate or pause as he went to his own bed and climbed in. 

Once Erik was satisfied that Raoul really wasn’t coming over to hassle him, he tucked his back legs underneath of him and rested his chin on his front paws. He closed his eyes, exhausted from his very trying day. Sleep would do him good. 

Except- 

He was cold. He shivered and opened his eyes. Raoul had a lovely blanket. Christine had her perfect fur. Poor Erik! He had neither of these things. He didn’t even have any clothes to wear to make up for it. He wrapped his tail around his body, but it did very little to help. 

Christine watched from the floor below the attic as Erik shivered and squirmed. Her heart sank and she quietly crept up the stairs to the attic. 

In the moonlight she could see all too well the number of scars and scratches on his bare skin, some of them bigger but many of them the size and shape of rat claws. It was a sight she wanted to look away from, something that frightened her and made her not want to think about it. How easy it would be to simply crawl back to her own bedroom and close her eyes, forgetting all about Erik and his scars! 

But this was her maestro, whom she loved, and she couldn’t just look away. 

He scrunched his eyes shut, trying to ignore how cold he was. It was going to be a very long night, and he resolved that he simply had to find something to use as clothing the very next morning. He wiggled this was and that, trying to get comfortable, but it was a futile attempt. At least Christine had left - he didn’t like being looked at when he was like this. But a moment later he opened his eyes, confused as to why Christine had come back and was coming closer to him. 

She was tugging her blanket along with her teeth, and she pulled it right up over him. He stayed perfectly still as she went under the blanket herself, and then as she cuddled herself close to his side. She stayed mindful of her paws and kept her movements gentle, knowing that his hairless skin must be terribly sensitive. Once she was settled just so, she closed her eyes. 

“Goodnight, Erik.”

Erik surreptitiously wiped a tear from his eye. His little Christine! Cuddling with him! She was truly an angel. She was so gentle, too! And he no longer felt cold, not with the blanket overtop him and warm Christine by his side. No one had ever willingly cuddled with him before. His voice wavered as he replied. 

“Goodnight, Christine.”

Perhaps living here would not be so horrible, after all.


End file.
